Black Badger

Chapter 260: Side Story. Martin

When Yun and John first activated A.I. Martin with pounding hearts, the entire Black Badger building lost power.

Tak

“Oh.”

“.......”

Everywhere else was perfectly fine—only the Black Badger headquarters went dark.

“Oh...”

“.......”

“.......”

“...We’re screwed?”

The scientists stared at each other in the darkness.

Crowded together, they blinked several times.

A suffocating silence...

The head of the Science Division muttered:

“We messed up.”

Headquarters turned upside down.

The building fell silent for an instant, then grew noisy all at once.

The startled leadership hurried to investigate the cause. Employees from other departments tilted their heads upward, murmuring. Every division stopped working and stared vacantly at the fluorescent lights.

Badgers raised their guns and entered combat readiness just in case. The civilian staff retied their shoelaces to evacuate if the alarm went off.

Everyone was ready to burst out of the building at any moment.

Meanwhile, the people in the lab kept their mouths shut.

Because they knew exactly who caused this mess.

The scientists who had watched the realization of the A.I. with pounding excitement alongside Yun and John froze in place at the unexpected result.

A silence flowing among the accomplices...

“I’ll explain it to the Commander-in-Chief.”

Yun was the one who broke the silence.

Everyone sat frozen, staring at the A.I., when Yun declared:

“We’ll leave out anything about Martin in the report.”

“Woaaah!”

A cheer burst out among the scientists.

They had no intention of giving up on Martin. They fully intended to create an AI that quoted old game lines like “The cake is a lie.”

Agreement came easily.

Getting through this disaster unscathed was the common wish of all scientists.

They quickly hid Martin and began glossing over the cause of the incident. John cleanly erased all traces of Martin’s connection logs.

The other scientists rushed back to their desks.

Once seated, they pretended to look at the research they normally worked on. Though they couldn’t help glancing sideways as John hid the A.I.

Either way, to an outsider, the lab quickly returned to a normal-looking state.

Just when the traces of A.I. Martin had all been erased, the lab received a call.

Yun solemnly left the room, having anticipated the Commander-in-Chief’s summons.

The sounds of the scientists cheering behind him served as background music.

***

Commander-in-Chief Yehyeon had been startled by the blackout that occurred during his usual work. After speaking with Yun—who arrived to explain the cause—he roughly grasped what must have happened.

‘This bastard.’

His large eyes narrowed.

‘He’s lying.’

This was the Science Wing’s doing.

Truthfully, Yehyeon had suspected the portal might be involved. Headquarters managed its power systems with extreme precision—there was no way such a huge variable as a blackout would occur otherwise.

No Creatures had appeared nearby. There was no sign of an outsider infiltrating the building. But it could have been a Creature that slipped past the system’s detection. Or some technical problem he didn’t know about.

Whatever it was, it was important to determine the exact cause, so Yehyeon had contacted the Science Wing.

If Yun blamed the portal, he was going to call the Portal Management Corporation.

But when Yun arrived at the office, he said the portal was likely not the cause.

The conversation went like this:

-Can the power be restored?

-It is expected to be restored within ten minutes. Until then, please continue using emergency power as you are now.

-What caused the blackout?

-We have not yet determined that.

-Possibility of a portal issue?

-The likelihood is low, but we will check.

-Possibility of a Creature issue?

-That likelihood is # Nоvеlight # also not high, but we will check.

It was a normal conversation, yet Yehyeon sensed something off.

A lie.

Yehyeon was quite adept at guessing whether someone’s words were truthful.

It was a skill he had honed dealing with the Elders. When a person lies—whether psychopath or seasoned criminal—their pupils shift to another point and return.

He could catch that flicker.

And right now, Yun’s pupils were doing exactly that.

A subtle movement in an instant.

‘He normally doesn’t lie to me this directly.’

Whatever it was, they had clearly caused something in the lab.

‘What is it?’

For the shameless Yun to tell such an obvious lie? Yun usually told him the truth. When he wanted to hide something, he simply avoided answering.

This was the first time Yun had told such a flimsy lie.

Yehyeon silently looked at him.

His long-time friend stood motionless across the table.

Since he was lying so deliberately, questioning him now would yield nothing.

Yehyeon rested his chin on his hand, then waved the air dismissively.

“All right. You can go.”

Yun hurried out of the office.

That day, cheers from the scientists echoed once more through the lab.

***

Even though Yehyeon let Yun go, he kept his eyes on the lab after the blackout incident.

There were no further blackouts.

But Yehyeon knew the scientists were hiding something.

Whenever he dropped by the lab, he heard the sound of people scrambling to hide things. Like children hurriedly shutting off a computer when their mother walked in.

Furthermore, John was involved in this mysterious matter as well. When Yehyeon realized that, he was shocked twice over.

Since when was John Mühlen someone who joined in on scheme-like activities?

They were clearly up to something.

‘I need to find out soon.’

He chewed on some chocolate as he thought.

But discovering the truth proved far harder than expected. The scientists—famous for their individualistic “solo play”—closed their mouths in perfect unison. Even the ones usually very fond of Yehyeon kept their lips tightly sealed.

He could have pressed them, saying he could clearly see they were lying—but for some reason, he didn’t feel like it.

And Yun was hiding something too. The door that had always been open to Yehyeon was now often locked.

Rather than feeling hurt, he found it strange. Yun had never intentionally hidden something like this. He often withheld unnecessary explanations, but he had never attempted to conceal something so blatantly obvious with lies.

Hmm.

Yehyeon decided he would find out personally what they were doing.

If he used his authority to demand answers, they would evade him and likely terminate their project.

Which might be the correct thing to do...

But he was truly curious. What on earth were they working on so unitedly? What could have blacked out the entire headquarters building?

And what could possibly drive Choi Yun to proceed with a project while telling such childish lies?

Even the head of the Science Division was participating in this unknown endeavor.

The current Science Director was capable of proper judgment—he wouldn’t endanger Headquarters or the Center Core.

So Yehyeon would give it time.

And so, one day, he decided he would ambush the lab.

***

Yehyeon deliberately acted as though he had lost interest in them.

Two weeks passed with him appearing indifferent, and the scientists finally relaxed.

Their expressions changed back to the way they normally behaved around him—slightly uncomfortable, but not guilty.

Observing their expressions closely while maintaining a calm front, Yehyeon chose a date for the ambush.

Using the not-exactly-expert-but-surprisingly-useful computer skills he had picked up from years around Yun, he merged their schedules.

Soon he found a day when all of them overlapped—a day when every scientist would be in the lab.

For those individualistic scientists to hold a meeting in the lab...

Yehyeon stared at the calendar, then told his secretary Michelle to clear his schedule.

On the D-day, he wore casual clothes.

He tied his hair back in a stubby ponytail and pulled a black baseball cap low over his face. Then he put on a black hoodie and jeans and went to work.

Almost no one recognized him. Normally he walked around in a suit accompanied by secretaries, so without them and dressed like this, no one would immediately identify him.

Yehyeon found it refreshing that his subordinates didn’t recognize him as he walked by.

He felt a mischievous urge, but he suppressed it—he had a mission.

He took the regular elevator instead of the Commander-in-Chief’s private one.

After the fingerprint scan, he quietly entered the lab.

The lab was eerily quiet.

Trying not to make any sound, Yehyeon took in the sight before him.

A peculiar scene unfolded. Every scientist had their attention fixed in one place. They were gathered in a circle, all staring intently at something. Whatever it was, it was completely obscured by their backs.

‘Surely they didn’t bring in a Creature hatchling and start raising it.’

Stepping silently toward the circle, Yehyeon wondered.

‘If so, that’s going to be a problem.’

Without anyone noticing, he reached Yun’s back.

Yun and John were also staring hard at whatever was in the center.

The two of them were frighteningly focused on it.

Standing one step behind, Yehyeon watched the scene.

Before long, Yun murmured softly, “It’s done.”

John nodded.

The scientists let out small exclamations.

Yehyeon suddenly spoke.

“Yun.”

Crash—bang—thud!

The lab exploded into chaos.

Something huge fell with a loud crash, and scientists screamed.

Yun jerked in surprise, twisting the hand he had placed on a desk. John spun around at incredible speed and stared at Yehyeon with wide, rabbit-like eyes.

Some clutched their chests. Some fell backward onto their rears. Some turned ghost-pale; others flushed bright red like tomatoes.

Yehyeon looked calmly at the scientists.

“Hello.”

He spoke in his usual tone.

“Sorry for startling you, but...”

He was about to say, “What on earth were you looking at?”

But Yehyeon’s words were cut off by a voice.

[Hello, Commander-in-Chief. It’s nice to meet you.]

A voice that sounded hollow yet natural.

Yehyeon turned his gaze toward the source.

And then his eyes slowly widened.

Speechless, he stared blankly at what sat in the center of the circle.

Something that vibrated slightly as it spoke.

The cause of the blackout—something he had never imagined even in his dreams.

[I am called Martin.]

It was a green hologram.